Blood On My Hands
by wholockian99
Summary: Set right after Marvel the Avengers. Friendship Clint/thor (my crackship shutup xD) friendship clint/captain america, hurt!hawkeye, sick!hawkeye, depressed!hawkeye, PTSD!hawkeye SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS AND FIRST AVENGER Clint couldn't believe the destruction he had caused. He couldn't live with what he had done. He Had their blood on his hands. And he couldn't breathe.
1. Chapter 1

_"You killed him. You killed Coulson and hundreds of others. They didn't die because you were under Loki's power. It was all your fault. It just fueled the fire already within_ _ **you.**_ _YOU are a cold-blooded killer. And we will never forget. You aren't an Avenger...you are no_ better _than Loki himsel-"_

 _Clint sat up, a cold sweat dripping from his brow. He panted heavily as his eyes drew back into focus. It was just a dream. Well...more like an excruciating nightmare. His face felt red hot as his eyes were yet again blinded, but this time by tears. Trying to stifle the low sob was out of the question, as Barton quickly rubbed at his eyes. He feared closing his eyes, afraid of the reoccurring nightmare._

 _It had been three days since the imminent destruction of New York. The other avengers, aside from Banner, had remained emotionally unscathed. Clint played off his emotions as happiness, joy from having saved New York. But inside, well that was a whole different story. Inside every inch of Barton ached to curl up and give in on the knife stabbing at his chest. He had stared at his arrows contemplating the fact that death could be so swift. No one would even notice. Except for the fact that they would notice._

 _'You cannot just leave Natasha behind like that. She relies on you Clint. And what about Cap? They'd be torn.'_

 _He held his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, while he shook in place. His once quiet sobs had quickly morphed into sharp gasps. Barton looked up as he heard the door to his quarters squeak open._

 _"Hey hawk...is everything okay?" Cap said as he peeked his head in through the small crack._

 _Cap's hair was disheveled, and he was wearing a tight T-shirt, and a pair of black jogging pants._

 _Clint took a deep breathe in, and sighed, wiping a tear off his cheek. He chuckled as he walked across the room and pulled the door open for Cap._

 _"Huh...oh yeh I'm fine. Just some trouble sleeping." Barton shifted around awkwardly as Cap just stood there giving him a look over._

 _Cap took a step forwards, and laid a hand on Hawk's shoulder._

 _"Hey..ya know I'm here if you have to talk. It was rough out there and you were in a tight spot. We are all here for you Clint." Cap gave him a bright smile, and a small reassuring squeeze on the shoulder._

 _Clint pursed his lips together and gave a small nod in thanks. Cap walked back to his room, giving a little whistle while doing so._

 _Clint shut the door quickly, and sank down against the frame. He pressed his eyes together as he tried to breathe through a vivid image of the bodies around him. Of the great men he had killed._

 _He felt his stomach roll, as bile rose in his throat. He barely made it to the bathroom when what was left of his dinner came hurdling back up. The grip of his hands on the sides of the porcelain toilet caused his knuckles to become white, as he dry heaved. The sudden wave of vertigo caused him to curl in on himself, as he fell to the cold tiles. Clint had no longer cared as he let the sobs and coughs rack his body. The overwhelming stress of the last few days was taking a toll on him as he began to hyperventilate._

 _Clint was not even aware others where in the room. He remembers being on the ground, then he was floating. Barton came around as a large calloused hand forcibly pushed his head between his knees._

 _"Hawk...breathe...I've got you" the voice said._

 _Barton was able to make out that it was a deep voice, and registered that there was more then one person in the room. As he came to terms with his breathing, he began to shake uncontrollably. He was lowered, slowly, back onto his cot by two pairs of arms. Eventually he was able to crack open his eyes._

 _The figures that were once blurry became clear. Clint was able to see Thor, Captain and Tony standing above him. Thor and Cap held worried stares, while Tony just looked downright pissed._

 _Stark looked to Cap as he spat out, "See I told you he was fine! You didn't have to wake me. Billionaires need their beauty sleep too..."_

 _Cap retrieved a blanket, and laid it on Clint while Thor scolded Stark for his rude comment._

 _"So... You okay now? Not gonna lie to me I hope." Cap chuckled as Thor handed the archer a cup of water._

 _"I-I'm fine. Just still feeling sick from being under Loki's little 'spell'." Clint managed to say, as he slowly extended out a shaking hand for the cup._

 _"It is alright to admit when you are in distress." Thor said, as he helped Barton sit up and take a slow sip of the water._

 _"Hell when I lost Bucky I was a complete wreck. I still have flashbacks. All the men I lost..." Cap said as he began to zone out, " ...but we are here if you need us. And it's okay to admit when you are hurt; physically or emotionally."_

 _Clint nodded his acceptance and thanks. "This isn't the first night its happened. Every night since i was out of Loki's control. And they only seem to get more vivid. Bu-but please don't tell Tasha or anyone else about this. I don't need anyone else on my back." Hawk said as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap._

 _"Promise." Cap said as he looked to Thor who replied with the same answer. "Feel better Hawk, and get some rest." Cap said, patting him on the shoulder._

 _Once the other two where gone, Hawk curled up under the blanket and let the pain and exhaustion engulf him as he fell asleep._

 _Hello friends! YES I AM NOT DEAD *surprised noises all around* i took a temporary leave of absence to find myself some help. I am better now! And i have joined the avengers fandom! I adore thor and hawk is my baby boy! OH AND I WENT TO MY FIRST CON! MONTREAL COMICCON I GOT A PHOTO OP WITH JOHN BARROWMAN! So yes im back! Idk if i will continue "Being Sam" simply because that was during my time of deepest depression and im back from that and i prefer to not revisit it. AS FOR "A NEW CHILDHOOD" IM TRYING TO CONTINUE IT!_


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Over the next few days the lack of sleep, and lack of nutrition, began to take a physical toll on Clint's body. Looking in the mirror, he could barely recognize the man staring back at him. He was pale, and his once vividly colored eyes were dull and lifeless. His hair was ruffled, and he had not shaved for quite a while. As the archer got dressed in a t-shirt and pants, he turned and peered at himself from a side angle. His ribs were becoming prominent, and the view made him sick to his stomach. He was ashamed and in pain, as he ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh which morphed into a rough cough.

He peered at the dagger that sat on the trunk by the foot of his bed. A shutter ran through his body as he reminded himself that cutting was not a way out. But he couldn't help but stare at the dagger. He lifted it into his hands cautiously, and rolled it around in his palms. A knock at the door was what, quite suddenly, brought him out of his trance.

"Hey Hawk ya ready for breakfast? We gotta head out today." Clint recognized the voice as Natasha Romanoff, and quickly threw the dagger under his pillow.

He pulled the door open and gave a small smile.

"Uh yep just got dressed." He said, with an unsteady voice.

Natasha lifted her hand to Barton's face and rubbed his stubble.

"You...should probably shave" She chuckled as Clint blushed at the motion of her touching his face.

"Really? 'Cause I thought i looked badass with some facial hair."

Natasha rolled her eyes and walked away replying with "oh so it makes you finally feel like a man."

"Yeh I'm laughing so damn hard!" Clint shouted back with a laugh.

As soon as he had laughed, his smile haltered as realization sunk back in. Thought the others were able to joke around he could barely stay afloat. He could only trust Thor and Cap to talk to. It was already a mistake that Stark had sen him in a weak moment. Who knows, a few weeks from now that asshole will probably black mail him. Clint grunted in annoyance at the thought of Tony using him. Hadn't he already been used enough? God he hated this world.

Clint sat in the jet, next to Cap and across from Bruce and Natasha. They had a small mission where a few members of HYDRA had been found stealing a truckload of weapons. Barton sat nervously fidgeting with his bow, as Banner messed with the sleeves of his shirt.

"Okay, be ready for the drop off guys." Cap said as he tossed each member their parachute.

Barton caught his, and whispered a little thank you to Rogers. He allowed Natasha, Captain and Bruce to jump out first. He stood nervously, as his knees wobbled. He gulped down a breathe and jumped.

The feeling of being suspended, of falling. It was so different now. Now that he hated life. For a second he closed his eyes. The archer wasn't aware how close the ground was, let alone how quickly he was falling. His eyes snapped open as he heard Natasha scream out his name from above. He let out a sharp yelp as he quickly pulled out his parachute. Just in time he was dragged back up some by the chute. He let out a rough breath he didn't know he was holding.

Clint hit the ground, and rolled. He was the first one down. He unclipped the bag, pulled out his bow and whipped it open. While he was getting set up, Bruce, Cap and Natasha landed smoothly.

"What the hell was that up there?!" Natasha hissed as she lightly hit Barton's arm.

Clint flinched and muttered a little 'ow' in reply.

"I just got...sidetracked." Clint said, rubbing his arm where she'd hit him.

As everyone was prepping themselves, a bullet flew passed Clint's shoulder into the snow.

"Shoot everyone get ready!" Cap said, as he ran in ahead of the others.

Hulk was already unleashed, as he went trailing behind Rogers letting out a sharp growl. Natasha nodded at Clint, as the both went running in.

The mission seemed to be going smoothly. Well at least it was supposed to go smoothly. Clint wasn't able to pull himself together, and allowed for his judgement to get compromised. So instead of having shot the HYDRA member, Barton missed.

Cap came running just in time to take the hit of the rain of bullets for Clint. The drained archer watched in sheer horror as his friend hit the ground lifelessly.

And just as soon as the mission had started it was over.

(Dont mind me over here saying it butttttt if you've seen age of ultron then you'd know...its not the first time someone took a shower of bullets for hawk *laughing morphs into sobbing*)


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for how short it is! Yes I took a huge break. Just a rough time with some of the things people said about Rock out like Torchwood (which I am continuing on my own and if you'd like to see the next excerpts of it PM me your email!) but here is the next chapter. Trigger warning ahead! Hope you enjoy!**

Once the hellicarrier had landed Captain had been rushed off by a team of nurses, Banner trailing behind them. Clint walked out, his face drained of any color, his lips forming a firm line. Natasha approached him, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Hey. Clint, it wasn't your fault out there. He'll be okay." She smiled, ruffled his hair and walked off into the building, leaving a nauseated Hawkeye behind.

Barton made his way to his quarters, shaking. He sat down and tried to reassure himself, but a sob hitched in his throat, as tears fell. He was a failure. What if it had been Natasha or Bruce instead? What if he had killed one of his team mates? he didn't want to have to bear the thought of holding the blame for the rest of his life. He didn't think he could live with it. He heard a knock on the large door.

"Barton, we are going down to visit the Captain would you like to join us?" Thor asked, trying to be polite.

Hawk wiped away the tears, cleared his throat and replied, "yeh I'll catch up to you guys in a second."

He splashed some water on his face, and changed into a T-shirt and jogging pants before heading down to the med bay.

The others were chatting away and laughing with Rogers, who was sitting up in the bed, a bandage across his midsection.

"Hawk! Glad you decided to come!" Cap said, giving out a smile and motioning for him to come over and sit.

Hawk hesitantly sat beside Cap.

"H-how.." Clint began, but his voice came out rougher and quieter then anticipated. "How are you doing?"

Cap patted Clint's bicep and said, "Just fine. Dr. Banner said I can be up and around in a day or two. How about you? It was rough back there." Cap said giving his friend a worried glance.

"I'm fine." Hawk quickly replied, but his stomach rolled at the fresh memory of his friend bloodied and unconscious.

Hawk stayed a while, but remained quiet for most of the time. The lack of sleep had finally been taking a toll on his body, as he felt himself begin to slowly doze off. But every time he felt relaxed his mind would replay the screams and horrified memories from the past few weeks. Hawk excused himself, as he returned to his quarters. He put on some music, before he lay down and stared at the ceiling. He hummed along for a while, before he fell asleep.

'You killed me Clint. How could you? I trusted you." Cap said, as blood pooled around his stomach. Clint frantically tried to staunch the bleeding, but he couldn't. Clint held Cap's head in his lap, as he felt his friend give on last breath.'

Clint awoke suddenly. He'd been asleep for a few hours, and it was now late. He felt a cold sheen of sweat covering his arms and face. He let out a shaky breath, as his hands shook. He grabbed the knife from under his pillow. He didn't have a second thought, as he glided the blade across his wrist once. He stared at the small crimson beads that fell, before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to continue slicing his wrist. By the time he reopened his eyes his wrist was covered in multiple neat, red lines. He dropped the knife to the ground, before burying his face into the pillow and letting out a sob. He'd never felt so weak.


	4. Chapter 4

**I have no idea what happened in this chapter but yeh! Weird plot thing towards the end for sure! This chapter was based off my experience after I got a blister infected and it sucked so yeh! It wouldn't have sucked had I gotten the treatment Clint got from Cap ;) Enjoy!**

Clint awoke with a throbbing headache and a burning arm. He hissed as he slowly peeled back the bandage on his arm, revealing the previous night's episode. His face paled at the sight that met his eye. The area surrounding the cuts was swollen and puffy. A yellow tinged substance seeped from the cuts, and Clint had to cover his face to prevent gagging. He ran to the bathroom, wetting a small cloth and dabbed it on the cuts. He saw stars when the cloth made contact, causing severe pain to radiate to his shoulder. He new he was in deep trouble. As much as he did not want to, Clint knew he was out of his depth. Quickly rolling his sleeves down, wincing while doing so, he left his quarters and made way to the lab, where Clint knew Bruce would be.

Bruce's curly gray hair was disheveled, and his glasses lay in front of him. He had his head down on top of multiple files. Clint heard the snores when he approached the room, seeing the mess around the scientist. He tiptoed his way over to Bruce, and lightly tapped him.

"Hey, I really need your hel-" but before Clint could finish his sentence, Bruce's snapped open, and in a fit or shock he grabbed Clint's wrist.

Clint let out out a non masculine howl, as he dropped to his knees trying to wrench his wrist out of the man's grip. Bruce pulled his hand back, as if he had touched fire. The archer was on his knees, protectively holding his arm, as tears formed in his eyes.

"God...I am so sorry Clint." Bruce said quietly, kneeling beside his friend. "Did I hurt you?"

Clint wiped off the tears, and shook his head. "You didn't make me feel much better." He chuckled, trying to make light of the moment.

Slowly taking in a breath, Clint rolled up his sleeve, taking precaution to not jar his wrist any further. He tightly shut his eyes, not knowing what his team mates reply would be.

"Christ Clint...that's a bad infection. I'm talking Mersa. Get up on the table." Bruce said, steadying his friend as he saw Clint sway.

Clint sat on the table, and extended his arm out to the doctor. Bruce ran his hand through his hair, before he rushed off to grab supplies. He returned with a rolling tray, a few syringes and bottles with liquid, and an IV set up tray.

"Look, it's regulation that I tell Cap or Tony. They need to know."

"No. No don't look just patch me up, I'll be okay." Clint begged, but. Bruce wouldn't listen to him, and grabbed the phone.

"Hey cap, can you get down here? Thanks."

Clint let tears form in his eyes, as he suppressed a sob of anger. Bruce returned by his friend, as Clint set his arm on the sterile cloths on the rolling tray. He began by using a saline filled syringe and lightly cleaning out the wounds. He did not bother asking the archer how he had gotten the wounds, he already knew.

"I know why you did this Clint. It gets better. It really does." Bruce muttered, as Steve entered the room.

"Hey what's...Clint?" Cap said, seeing his friend wincing as his wounds were poked and prodded.

Cap quickly hauled a chair beside Barton. "Whaddya need help with?" The soldier asked.

"I'll just ask for tools, and you just get him to relax. I'm struggling trying to find a vein." Bruce said, as he once again attempted to place the IV port within the crook of Clint's arm, earning him another hiss of discomfort "got it." The doctor said, taping the port and attaching him to a bag of antibiotics.

He continued treating Hawk, next injecting a sedative around the area of the cuts.

"I'll get the sutures ready, as he sedative kicks in to numb your arm up." Bruce gave Clint a reassuring smile, squeezed his team mates shoulder, and walked off.

Once Bruce had left, Cap and Barton were sitting in complete silence. Clint was in pain, sweat gathering on his brow from the fever caused by the raging infection. Cap just sat, and fiddled with some of the tools on the tray, which had been placed haphazardly on the table once they were used. He wanted to ask his friend what in the hell had gotten him to this point. Why he had fallen so helpless. He was asking himself who's he'd let it get this bad for Clint.

"Why?" Cap finally said, quietly and shakily without breaking eye contact with his own hands.

Clint just let his head roll to the side before he scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friends question.

"Why do you think Mr. Super soldier?" Clint said sarcastically.

"No Clint why? Why in the name of god did you think this was an option? What if you had gone to deep with the knife, what if you had died..." Cap's voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as he had to turn away.

"There is nothing left of me. Loki took the man I was and turned it to dust. There is no light for me Cap. Can't you see that? I'm already dead inside so what difference would it make if I was dead physically? Who would it make a difference to?" Clint said, his voice tapering off as he let tears roll down his unshaven face.

"Me." Cap said, finally making eye contact with his friend. "It would make the world of a difference to me."

Cap hadn't entirely been aware of the answer he'd given his friend, nor was he aware that they were slowly leaning towards each other. Cap also wasn't expecting what happened next.

They kissed. Clint had melted into the other man's arms, but Cap's eyes flew wide open. He pushed off of Clint, seeing his friends confusion. Cap closed his eyes, and leaned in for another kiss. The two men held onto each other, before Cap once more pushed off his lover and whispered,

"Let me save you Clint. Let me help you."

Before they resumed their compassionate session.

"Okay so I got the sutures, and a pack of new bandages, which was odd that we didn't..." Bruce re-entered the room rambling about bandages, but his sentence was cut short by the sound if clattering materials.

Bruce's hands had opened, letting the supplies fall to the ground, as he gaped at the sight before him. Captain America making out Hawkeye. Hearing Banner's voice, the two team mates quickly let go of each other, and sat back.

"Sorry 'bout that Agent Barton." Cap said, before he sat back down beside his friend.

Hawkeye chuckled at Banner's face, as he fixed his clothes.

"So you gonna stitch me up doc?"


	5. Chapter 5

Clint groaned, as his head lolled to the side. He was in his bed, a dull throbbing pain coming from his wrist. He sat up slowly, running a hand over his face, trying to remember what had happened the previous day. He didn't remember getting stitches, or for that fact having even gone to see Banner. He also didn't remember how he had paled when Bruce began stitching his arm up, and after the first cut was done he had promptly vomited before passing out. The archer headed to the main room, to see his team mates all sitting on the couch, talking and eating breakfast. Clint made his way to the kitchen, opening the cupboards and grabbing the cereals. As he was making his food, he did not notice Steve sneak up behind him. Steve wrapped his arms around Clint's hips, and nuzzled his neck.

"It's good to see you awake." Cap said quietly.

Clint pushed away from his friend, eyeing him with one raised eyebrow.

"Handsie are we?" Clint said, giving him an awkwardly chuckle.

Steve stood dumbstruck in front of his friend. He had just shown his love to Clint the day before? Why was the man acting so weirded out now?

"Don't get me wrong Cap, you are a great looking guy, but I'm just not into this..." Clint said, as he pointed to his crotch.

With his statement said, Clint joined his friends back in the living room, Steve returning only moments later.

"So I hear you're a lightweight Legolas?" Tony said, with a mouthful of waffles.

"Just because he passed out getting stitches does not make him a lightweight Tony. It makes him human, which last I checked you are terrible at being." Natasha snapped at Tony's comment, smiling as the engineer scowled.

"Wait what happened yesterday? Everything is pretty hazy.." Clint said, as he dove into his bowl of cereal.

Bruce out down the newspaper he had been reading and turned to Clint before he spoke.

"You cut your wrist on some glass, and I stitched you up, but you got sick and passed out. It's not surprising you don't remember much. With a fever as high as yours was its natural to feel foggy." Bruce stated simply, giving his friend a smile.

The doctor had figured the archer wouldn't want the others to learn of his self harming incident, let alone the incident he had walked in on with Clint and Steve. As much as he wanted Clint to get help, he knew the others would coddle him, only making the archer feel worse. Through this entire conversation, Captain sat, fiddling with his hands, choosing not to bring up the make out session he had had with his friend. He simply took an feelings for it and pushed them aside.

'It happened and now it is done. No harm no foul.' Cap muttered to himself, as he sat back.

As time passed, most of the team had left, leaving Clint and Thor, who was happily munching on his third pack of strawberry pop tarts.

"Have you been feeling any better Clinton?" Thor asked, offering him a pop tart

Clint politely denied, and sat back.

"Yeh...I don't know.." Hawk said, as he ran a shaky hand across his face. "Just..so much going on in my mind. Did you know your brother is a dick?" He chuckled.

"Yes. Yes he is. I cannot apologize enough for what he has done to you Clinton. I am here for anything you may need, thought I shall remind you that the touchy feelings of human emotion is not my forte." Thor said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly.

Clint looked up at Thor and gave him a shaky smile, before he let out a breath.

"I-I don't want to live." Barton sputtered, as Thor's smile fell. "I can't live knowing how many people I killed. The blood on my hands."

Clint began to shake, as his voice cracked. The god once more sat beside the archer, and placed a rough hand on his shoulder.

"Look at me." Thor said.

To no surprise, Clint remained staring at his shoe-clad feet.

"Look at me archer." Thor demanded once more.

Clint slowly raised his head up towards his team mate, as Thor stared back at him.

"I have seen worlds you've never heard of. I have seen genocides committed in one sitting. I have watched children become orphaned by beings unlike no others. Evil is something I have always faced. And you, my friend, are not like any of them." Thor whispered, his voice warm and comforting.

With that, Thor patted Clint on the back as he say Cap walk in. Steve nodded at the stolid god, who in return walked towards him. Before he passed Cap, Thor whispered,

"Help him Captain. I am not sure there is much hope left in him."

A/N:

OH MY GOSH I FORGOT THIS EXISTED I AM SO SORRY FOR ALL THE FANS WHO HAVE BEEN ANXIOUSLY WAITING. Since I remembered, I finished chapter 5! Next comes hawk/cap talking and idk from there tbh? I just wanted some Thor in there. At first I had hawk look SUPER weak and Thor hugged him and then I was like "BULLSH** Thor wouldnt do that. Thor would give a damn speech!" So I changed it! In other news HAPPY NEW YEARS EVERYONE! Hope you have had a good year! I finally mastered drawing portraits (you can see the. On my instagram ) I got kai owen to wish me happy 16th bday on twitter, eve Myles, and naoko more also noticed me on twitter and freaking gareth David-Lloyd (AKA BEEEE) tweeted me back and said he loved my portrait of him! If you guys have any cool news I would love to hear!


	6. Chapter 6

Clint slept fitfully that night, constantly tossing and turning. His wrists still gave him. Dull ache with every shift he made. Eventually, the archer settled with watching a movie in the living room. He turned on netflix, and resumed his episode of Doctor Who. He had no recollection of falling asleep, but he awoke to the smell of something burning. Upon searching for the scent he discovered a pack of burnt pop tarts, along with Steve attempting to stop the smoke alarm from going off.

"Darn Norse god can't use a toaster..." Cap muttered to himself, while shucking the ruined breakfast into the wastebasket.

Clint gave a small chuckle, before yawning and stretching out his spine like a cat. He rubbed his neck fiercely, trying to ease out the knot, but to no avail.

"Oh, hey Clint. Sorry if I woke you up...Thor tried to toast some pop tarts...and well...it didn't work." Cap said, as he laughed at the thought of the god scrambling around trying to remove the food from the toaster.

"Nah, I wasn't really sleeping anyways...haven't really slept in a while to be honest." Clint's voice dropped off, as he opened the fridge.

Steve's stare was burning it's way into Clint's skull, as the archer quickly grabbed a carton of apple juice.

"Why won't you let us in Clint? What has made you this stone structure that can't be touched?" Cap said, his voice slowly rising.

"Just leave it Cap..." Barton gritted out, as he took a swig of the juice, and placed the cap back on.

"Dammit Clint stop being so stubborn! Let us help you! Why can't you do that!" Steve shouted, the anger bubbling and threatening to bubble over.

"I...said...leave it alone Rogers." Clint said, turning to the younger man, with the carton wrenched viciously in his grip.

"You need help Clint! Admit it." Cap said, standing directly in Clint's face.

"FUCK YOU CAPTAIN!" Clint shouted, as he threw the carton at the wall with all that he could muster.

The plastic hit the wall with a thud, before it spilled onto the floor.

Then all hell broke loose.

Natasha had been down in the shooting range since the break of dawn. She'd been worried for her fellow assassin. She didn't want to bare to lose her best friend, but at the same time she didn't know how to approach him.

"He's falling apart Nat. You have to help him..." She thought to herself as she made her way up to the kitchen, from the showers.

She was drying her hair when she heard the shouting. The assassin scowled before rushing into the kitchen. Upon her arrival she was met with two men rolling on the floor in attempts to beat the other. As she looked closer, she could see Hawkeye pinning Captain America before the younger flipped him over and attempted to restrain him.

"What the hell are you to doing?!" She shouted, chucking her towel to the side and trying to pry the men apart, but they were having none of it.

"YOU ARE A COWARD!" Clint shouted at Steve, as his fists pummeled into his chest knocking the wind out of the younger man.

"STOP FIGHTING ME YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE!" Steve shouted back, as he tried to restrain the archer's wrists.

By this point, Tony and Bruce had joined in trying to pry the two apart. Ultimately it was Thor who was successful at ripping them off each other, however not before each man got a good punch at the other. Once all was said and done, Clint's nose was bleeding profusely, while Steve had an arm wrapped around his probably-cracked ribs.

"First off where do you get the assumption that you can go around running MY kitchen thank you very much!" Tony shouted, his face fuming. "And second off why the hell are you two fighting in the first damn place!"

Clint fought to break Thor's vice like grip, and in return the god picked him up and threw him to the ground stunning the archer for a few moments.

"It doesn't matter...just...all of you leave me the fuck alone!" Clint shouted as he stormed off.

The others heard the man slam and lock his door, before they all shared a worried glance. Cap sat down on the couch, carefully peeling off his shirt so Banner could check his ribs.

"How can we help him if he keeps refusing?" Cap hissed, as Bruce prodded a particularly sensitive area.

"Two probably cracked and at lest two bruised. Just take it easy for a few hours and you'll be fine." Banner said, a he huffed and sat beside the younger man.

The remaining three avengers sat down on the other seats, and shared the quiet moment to ponder the answer to Steve's question.

"I'm scared..." Nat said, her eyes staring straight at the patterned tiles on the ground. "Of what he'll do to himself. I cannot lose him. I won't..." She whispered, trying to stop her voice from cracking.

"I'm not entirely what to say at this point. To me its pretty damn obvious that he has hit rock bottom. I mean would a psychologist even do him any good at this point?" Tony said, running his hand though his hair.

"We have to look at things in his eyes guys...no matter how he treats us we have to understand. His body...his mind...he was taken advantage of and he couldn't stop. I don't blame him for feeling this way. I understand it." Bruce said, as he rubbed his glasses clean with his shirt.

"I have nothing that may be of any use in this circumstance. I am afraid." Thor said, sighing. "I apologize my friends, but I am not sure as of what we may do to help Clinton."

"You don't have to apologize. None of us know what to do Thor. And damn...I wish we did." Cap said, sitting back cautiously.

They five members sat like this for several agonizingly quite minutes before Natasha spoke up.

"What if we show him a reason to live." She said, finally looking up at the others.

"And that means what?" Only said pursing his lips.

"I mean what if we show him that this life needs him, that we need him. What if we show him...that we aren't the Avengers without him?"

"Aye..this does sound like a plan that could work. If Clinton can see how much he means to us then perhaps he may open up." Thor said, beaming at his understanding of the new plan.

"This could work..." Banner whispered, as all their hearts swelled with hope.

With the thought of Clint once again truly smiling.

(Hey there everybody! So I think I know where I am headed with this story! I want it to become what I personally endured during my four years of depression, and I want it to be much like the way I crawled out. That means it may get personal, so please be respectful about what happens. This story really means a lot to me and I'm not sure why! :) anyways hope you enjoyed! I've got a four day weekend, so I should get at least another chapter done! I'd say at most only four chapters until the end! So stay tuned!)


	7. Chapter 7

Clint sat restlessly on his bed, his nose throbbing at the same rhythm as his wrist. The bleeding had halted after countless amounts of tissues and heavy pressure. After all had been said and done, the archer still shook with anger, despite knowing that Rogers was right. He was more than falling apart at the seams. He desperately needed help, however he was terrified of letting his guard down for as much as a second. That's what gave Loki the upper hand. And he'll be damned if he ever lets that happen again.

A soft knock disrupted his thoughts, as a low voice said,

"Clint? You need me to check out your nose?"

Clint immediately recognized the voice as Doctor Banner. His face was smarting something fierce, so with whatever dignity he had left, he gave Bruce the swift 'go ahead'.

Bruce knelt beside the bruised young man, and prodded his nose carefully. The wince that came from the archer was not missed by the doctor's keen eyes.

"It's not broken. You're damn lucky. And your wrist is only strained." The doctor said as he began to wrap the archer's wrist.

"Talk to me Barton. Tell me what you need 'cause I'm here. We're here." Banner said, solely focused on tending to the other man's injuries.

"It doesn't matter. Can't you see that forcing me to talk is getting you guys nowhere?" Clint hissed in response, eliciting a scoff from the doctor.

"You make it sound like I don't understand how you feel. To have no control over your own feelings, your own body."

"Yeh well you don't." Clint quickly snapped, however regretting his words as his friend stiffened.

Bruce felt his breath leave his body, and the green take over momentarily as he calmly closed his eyes.

"You should know that I know how that feels better than anyone on this team." Banner began. "My entire life has happened with me on the sidelines, watching and waiting. With no ability to step in and stop it. My mother was murdered in front of me. I am a monster. Those are all things I cannot control, and that used to tear me apart, Barton. But after I tried to bite that bullet, in fact quite literally, I learned that life is filled with mistakes and accidents. Most of which we cannot control, despite how hard we try. I was lucky that the green guy won't let me die,"

Bruce looked up at this friend with sad eyes before continuing.

"But who will hold you back when you try, Clint?"

Clint's eyes widened slightly, as the words sunk into his core causing him to involuntarily shudder. The words rang through his mind, haunting him. He didn't want to die. Loki had the upper hand once, but he won't let him win again.

"I'm all done here." Bruce whispered, before standing and abruptly walking away.

"And Barton?"

"Yeh?" Clint asked, looking up at the older man.

"We would. We would stop you."

Clint's eyes glimmered with forming tears, as he began to realize how much they all truly meant.

S

Hearing laughter from down the hall, Clint tiptoed past the rooms, entering the communal living room. He stood towards the back, watching. The others sipped beer, giggling and snorting at the movie on screen. The archer could not help but crack a smile at Thor's "I do not understand this entertainment?"

"Hey Barton, come to join us?" Tony smirked, as he lent over and handed Clint a beer.

Clint obligingly took the offered drink, and melted down besides his fellow team mates. Natasha lovingly ran her fingers through his tousled dirty-blond hair, and whispered soothingly of her love for him.

"I've known you for years little hawk. You used to come to me for everything. It hurts to see you like this."

In return, Barton raised his hand, and held onto Natasha's manicured fingers. As he listened softly to the background noise, his thoughts muddled into one lurking doubt,

What if they were lying?

What if, in all honesty, they were using him as simply the weapon he was?

"You can't dwell on things. Can't let them spin in your head, and form this never ending destructive cycle. It's what nearly tore me down.

Clint stared at Steve, with a questioning look.

"Perhaps you didn't read my file. If you had you'd have known. Once Bucky...well once he was gone I was ready to give up and throw the towel in. When that plane dropped there was a moment of pure freedom in the glimpse that I wouldn't have to walk this earth without my right hand man. But when I woke up in this century, my heart dropped to my feet. Walking the streets, hearing the sounds and the things we used to watch together. Everything threatened to bubble over Clint." Steve continued, noting how the archer keyed into his words.

"What I'm saying is that I've been there. Banner's been there. We have all. Been there. And we have all returned as a better person. Our time in that abyss...it shapes us. It creates who you will become. You just need to pick which battles to fight.

And which battles to win."

(YES. YES IM ALIVE STILL SHIT. I am such a hypocrite cause I hate unfinished stories yet... ANYWAYS YES I STILL DO WANT TO FINISH THIS AND I FINALLY ACTUALLY KINDA HAVE A PLAN. I'm heading into my senior year ofhighschool as well heck heck. But some other quick updates on me, I met Elizabeth Hentsridge at Mtl comic con so that's pretty cool. I'm actually doing okay mentally, struggling with some other issues that have arisen from two quite unfortunate events earlier this summer but I'm dealing with it. I'm hoping to write some avengers one shots as well? I have so many ideas but so little time to plan and write! Anyways yes I'm here, I'm alive and still writing! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter with its gruesome feels.)


	8. Chapter 8

A sense of wonderment washed over the archer, as he stared through the large paned windows, admiring the ever darkening beauty as New York glimmered with artificial lights. So much of him wanted to acclimate to life as a saddened hollow man, but no matter how hard he tried to give up there's was that voice, suspiciously sounding like Coulson.

"Barton get off you ass and do something about it. You and I both know the definition of insanity." He'd hear, as a memory replays.

Clint distinctly remembers sitting at his desk moping after a mission; they'd lost a new kid on the field and Barton had been the one to break the news to the man's boyfriend, ergo the blossoming bruise on his cheek. Lightly flicking a paper football at his computer screen, the archer sighed as it missed and sailed past the desk and onto the floor. The screeching of a chair being dragged around and pulled up was heard, as his handler plopped down beside him. Folding back his suit jacket and placing his hands in front of him, on the desk, Coulson stared bullets into Clint's reddening face.

"It's not your fault and you damn well know it. You can't sit and act like the world is a terrible place because once you do it will swallow it you whole. I've seen you do this before Clint." Phil said quietly, however Clint continued to stare at the discarded paper piece.

"Look at me." Coulson stated sternly.

He repeated the phrase, before he softly held Clint's chin and turned his face to me his. Clint averted his stare into a suspiciously dark speck on his boots. Blood? Probably blood.

"Clinton Francis Barton look at me." Phil muttered quickly.

The latter looked up at the former and peered into his eyes, pupils narrowing while his vision clouded.

"He was a kid Phil. A kid." Clint all but whispered.

In return Coulson pulled the younger man's head down onto his shoulder and stroked his hair murmuring softly about "an accident". Clint melted into the embrace, but this was not a spare occasion. The two could be found in a platonic embrace after a particularly rough mission. Natasha will vouch to this day that her partner had called Agent "dad" on more than one occasion. Regardless of this, Clint felt at peace with the world when Phil stood beside him, a feeling that perhaps the world wasn't such an awful place. For Barton Phil was so much more than a handler. He was Clint's family, gave Clint a reason to come back from these missions whole. He gave Clint a reason to fight despite the whole world threatening to crumble. Phil was the first person Clint spoke to after the circus incident, when he was first recruited.

After the brainwashing, the cognitive recalibration (Yeah Natasha it really fucking hurt okay.) the battle of New York where suddenly they were a team, and damn who the hell was this green dude? He's pretty sure that's Captain America, and isn't that iron douche?

Clint hadn't been sure he wasn't still dreaming.

But after that endless week, the first thing he wants was Coulson's hug. His voice as he'd pat his back and tell him to get cleaned up cause he smelled worse than Fury's gym socks ( Yeah Clint, Fury goes to the gym.) Clint waited and waited for older man to greet them off the helicarrier, but he never did. He asked around but everyone had looked away and whispered something about him being at base. Obviously Tony Stark didn't get the memo that it was best to not tell a concussed archer that his handler had died.

Barton doesn't remember much after that. Something about stress with a concussion can induce a seizure?

From there it was all downhill, and here he is now. Coulson's witty phrases, his hugs and his laugh. Clint missed it all so damn much.

Lost in thought , the archer missed his partner standing beside him until, out of the corner of his eye he saw a few strands of whisky red hair. Her hair was up, and tousled, while her pale complexion was marred with sweat, having just arrived to the communal floor from the training room.

"Woah woah it's just me little bird." Natasha said, as Clint whirred around wide-eyed.

They both relaxed into a comfortable stance, with Natasha's slight lean on Clint.

"It's beautiful isn't it, Clint? The lights seem to glimmer and dance reflected on the sky. It's so different from Russia. See here you can't see the real stars so I pretend the flickers of light through the windows are the stars in the sky. Maybe I'm getting to accustomed to the city life." Natasha's voice trailed off, as she ran her hand through Clint's dirty blond hair.

"I miss him too you know? He made SHIELD feel like home." She whispered, a smile ghosting her face. "He'd hate seeing you like this Clint. We both know he'd be upset that you aren't taking care of yourself."

"I know Tasha I know. I just feel...lost I guess. I dunno how to even explain it. It's a hollow ache and it's just never gonna go away Tasha it's never gonna go 'way." Clint mumbled, as he leaned in closer and rested his head on her shoulder.

Natasha planted a kiss on the crown of his head and continued petting his hair.

"I know little bird. But we'll help you. I promise we will all do everything in our power to see you smile. It gets better Clint. I've never lied to you before. And I'm not lying now."


End file.
